


clingy setter sticking for 15 years

by lolice_pli



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Hanahaki Disease, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, I Tried, Love Poems, M/M, Minor Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Oneshot, Songfic, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, no beta we die like daichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29355975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolice_pli/pseuds/lolice_pli
Summary: songfic.kageyama stares at his newest poem, a smile on his face as he gently folded it up and placed it in his bag.today was a new day, and with every new day, was a new poem.a poem to send to his dearest beloved.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 3





	clingy setter sticking for 15 years

**Author's Note:**

> this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> just a heads up, i edited a few of the lyrics for it to make a bit more sense.  
> this is lowercase intended and is a spin off to a oneshot i posted on wattpad

_"the poems that i've put all my love into. i've sent them for 15 years."_

kageyama tobio proudly places the envelope into the mailbox, anticipating an answer from the latter. just as before, just as usual. he journeyed to the cafe he usually stayed at after sending his letter, a quiet break from everything else. from tsukishima's annoying voice, the deafening sound of the volleyball hitting the wooden boards of the gym floor, to ushijima's, although quite helpful, endless list of advice and tips. he looks at the mailbox, a look of hope settled itself on his face.

_"and there's still no reply. and there's still no reply."_

_._

_._

_"first year i was completely careless. each and every day i would write to you"_

the seventeen year old boy crumpled up the piece of paper he had been working on for the past fifteen minutes. he had never been good at literature, no less poems. but sugawara insisted on writing as a way to express the emotions he found trouble in expressing. one of those emotions just happened to be his undying admiration and affection for a short tangerine-haired decoy. though the task had proved itself to be easier said than done. tobio had already discarded twelve pieces of paper, making the one he threw away just earlier the thirteenth. of course, writing poems is no easy task. particularly when you're writing something directed to the love of your life. 

and considering tobio's almost failing grade in literature, the poems were nowhere near how he wanted them to be. but he'd managed- he always does.

_"licked all the stamps. sending you my heart's saliva"_

he reminisced the first time he was told he had to lick the stamp. tobio was taken aback, which wasn't exactly a new thing for him. the boy found licking stamps to not only be quite dirty, but also weird. he didn't want the stamp to smell bad- he remembered being told about his bad breath back then, which was why he started taking mints, brushing his teeth every time he ate as to adhere to the smaller's complaints.

_"second year i was still careless. flames cast across my house"_

deep in thought, tobio tapped on the desk with his pencil. he had developed a sort of pattern to his pencil's clicking and repeated it over and over, stopping every once in a while to write down bits and pieces onto his sheet of paper. he'd occasionally reach out for his eraser, having bought a new one after that bastard tsukishima decided to come by the other day, mocking him on all the crossed-out words or even whole stanzas tobio's papers had. all his attention focused on one piece of paper, so much so that his nose failed to perceive the smell of burning furniture. the smoke detector was broken, and so his ears were of no help to the situation either.

_"not only that but my clothes caught fire. and when i noticed, just my collar was left"_

tobio groaned. this poem was getting nowhere. he had originally wanted to base it off of volleyball, as he usually does, but his mind just didn't seem to want to cooperate this time. scribbling down more ideas, his head snapped up, as if a lightbulb had just magically turned itself on inside his head. quickly writing it down, tobio paid no attention to anything else. he paid no attention to the roaring flames behind him and even more so on the flames that had made its way up tobio's sleeve.

finishing off the poem with the signature sugawara made up for him, tobio proudly smiled at his creation, holding it up as if for all the word to see. and that's when he noticed it had suddenly gotten hot. _really_ hot. turning around, tobio could only panic. he reaches for the fire extinguisher that was, fortunately, in a nearby corner and stumbled through the instructions before _finally_ putting out the fire.

_"third year everything calmed down. i've reached my limits of literature"_

a seemingly lifeless boy sat in the local cafe. his black, night hair was messy, bangs falling wherever they felt like, pale skin with barely any life, and dull, aegan eyes. surrounding him were empty cups of coffee, ranging from hot cappuccinos to chilling frappes of all sizes. sat on a small plate was a half-eaten croissant and a knife smeared with butter. he seemed to have been drained of all life, no motivation to do anything but lay there, dead.

_"spreading my love for you across the world. maxing out the counter for my love"_

in front of tobio was an open laptop. one would assume he was working on some sort of college essay, but it was actually quite different. on the laptop, was a site in which he posted some of his more meticulous poems. there he posted the literature he had made but kept a few other ones he had deep emotional ties with. the poems have been picking up popularity lately, gaining a few top spots on the website he had posted them on. tobio, contrary to his friends' excitement on his achievement, simply did not care. all he cared about was that he was finally getting somewhere, and so he hoped his poems would be seen. he prayed they would be answered, that his feelings would be given a response to, rather than being left in the dark.

_"fourth year i tried working on magazines. turns out it was sold immediately"_

holding the magazine of the brand he had worked with, tobio couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. his section was just after the front page, which meant a lot of people would see it. he glances at the girls sat on the table beside his, a confused look on his face as he watched them gush over something. taking a bit of a closer look, he recognizes that 'something' as the magazine that was in his hand. 

"i wish my boyfriend would write poems like these for me"

one of the girls huffed, making tobio look away. for all he knew, he was the only one with poems pertaining to romance- which was one of the reasons why it was near the cover. a sense of pride rushed over him, and he could only smile. 

_"i tried publishing a poem compilation. and quit my boring job"_

he nervously gnawed on the tip of his pen. was it really a good idea to quit his part-time job? tobio stares at the compilation he had just published some days ago. it had gone viral- topping the charts. and so here he was in his current dilemma. he had been debating quitting his part-time job, the one aside from volleyball since he'd obviously never abandon volleyball but- this.. this was something he could let go. he groans, his eyes boring into the laptop screen with the resignation form all filed out. all that was left was to send it and he's done. taking a bite from his cinnamon roll, tobio sighs. bringing his finger to the enter button, he presses it down and deflates like a balloon.

well now that's one less problem to think about.

_"fifth year i was a professional poet. captivating young women's hearts"_

tobio looked around the volleyball court and in the stands, in which he sees an abnormal amount of women cheering for him and _specifically_ him. he was surprised- he had always seen oikawa and his many fangirls but that was different. oikawa was oikawa, a man who liked to show off, one with charm and a handsome face. tobio was none of that, in his eyes at least, and so he was left in disbelief. 

"it seems you have been the center of the women's attention tonight" ushijima pointed out, to which tobio responded with a grunt. he didn't care about them.

_"being as earnest as i was, other girls looked like ugly radishes"_

the girls continued squealing, shouting compliments at the man. tobio could only stay silent and walk away, for he had no interest in these women. unless they were a man named hinata shoyo with bright orange hair and hazel eyes, who is about 5 foot 7 in height and is the greatest decoy in the world, then he would pay no attention. 

being the pea-headed man he was, tobio's brain had managed to morph the girl's heads into something else. looking into the crowd, instead of seeing beautiful fawning girls, he'd see radishes. sometimes he'd see volleyballs- it depends on his mood for the day. 

_"sixth year my body utterly broke. more than 2000 poems i have wrote"_

_"every bone i knew of was broken. every organ i knew of was damaged"_

sat on his bed, tobio looks out the window. it was a strain for him to even look around since it hurt his neck in ways he never knew even existed. taking a sip from his carton of milk, tobio glances at his laptop. the number of poems he had published had already reached the two thousand mark, and so he wishes to make it two thousand and counting. with a contentful hum, he smiles. his feelings were sure to finally reach out to shoyo, and if not, he'll keep on writing, and writing, and writing. if it takes him ten thousand poems then so be it, he will get his feelings across. he just knew it.

_"seventh year i totally recovered. today i shall compare you to something"_

pressing the power button to his laptop, tobio leans on the chair. tapping his fingers on the table, a habit he had grown into over the years, he began to think of ideas to base his poems upon. he had always enjoyed comparing shoyo to things. things like the sun, in which he'd always make it so shoyo would be the victor. he'd often describe him as a sunny person, whose smile brightens his day by a ten-fold. it was always a burst of energy whenever he was around.

_"are you like extreme ironing? or a compound inner product space?"_

tobio's mind flickered around, going from one topic to another, quickly dropping it whenever he thought it wasn't good enough to be compared to shoyo. two words flashed in his mind- extreme ironing. he thought about it for a moment, what even would extreme ironing be? a person riding a massive iron like a horse? or maybe it's like a sport, in which you get a huge iron and use it to iron equally huge clothing. his thoughts wandered off once more. a compound inner product space. wait- no, scratch that. tobio shook his head. poetry was his second escape apart from volleyball- he was not going to ruin it with some complex math.

besides, he wouldn't know how to compare shoyo to math anyways. they were both idiots and still are.

_"eight year, i didn't really change. today i shall compare you to something"_

once more, he sunk into his chair. another year goes by, and a new one opens up. his routine grew more and more concrete by the day, as he learned to expect the little fortunes that came his way every now and then. be it sugawara dropping by for a chat, ushijima and hoshiumi attempting to help him with brainstorming- which always ended up in soft chuckles and laugher, to the occasional drizzle of rain he had come to enjoy.

this lifestyle was sitting well with tobio, and he didn't hate it one bit. he takes his pen, and as usual, he would start to jot down ideas.

_"are you like winning every match in volleyball? or an ampa glutamine receptor?"_

ah, of course. volleyball would always be his number one, besides shoyo of course, he's come to know this fact by heart. so it was no surprise it would be the first topic to come to mind. the sound of his pen etching itself onto the paper resonated throughout the room, the rustling of the leaves outside and the loud yet comfortable sound of children running around outside filled his ear. his hand reached for his mug, a somewhat thoughtful gift from his senpai, nishinoya- who was currently planning a whole world vacation with asahi. taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes gaze at the paper.

finishing off the handwritten poem, he does a quick reread. with a satisfied smile, he turns to his laptop and began to type in the words. he didn't last very long until he had to shut his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. he opens a drawer, rummaging through it before taking out a pair of glasses. he had gotten them not so long ago, after he realized his eyes were starting to get strained with how much he uses his laptop. not wanting it to affect his volleyball, he visited an optometrist and got himself rounded glasses. ever since getting it, tsukishima had always found some way to tease him about it- despite having glasses himself.

the clicking sound of his keyboard echoed as he put on the glasses. his mind once more wandered off to come up with more things to compare shoyo with. previous conversations with kenma and kuroo come into mind. an ampa glutamine receptor. he remembered the older man mentioning it a few times a while back, telling him to make a poem about it- in which he received a smack to the back from kenma for suggesting such a stupid topic. 

a soft chuckle escapes his lips. maybe he'll fulfill the wish of his senpai, just this once.

.

.

_"the poems that i've put all my into. i've sent them for 15 years."_

tobio sat himself on his spot, greeting his daily good morning to the old couple who owned the cafe who both reached his table, placing down his order. the couple would usually already have his order ready by the time he walks in, sometimes they'd chat whenever the cafe wasn't as busy as usual. tobio enjoyed this, more than he'd want to admit. it gave a homey feeling- one he wishes to experience with shoyo by his side. 

_"and there's still no reply. and there's still no reply."_

_._

_._

_"ninth year, i had a horrible accident."_

the siren of the ambulance only got louder and louder. tobio tried to move his head, trying to open his eyes even a little bit. turning to his left, he saw tsukishima. he seemed a lot more stressed than usual- strange. next to the blonde haired boy was yamaguchi, who held the other's hand in a reassuring manner, squeezing it every now and then as if to say 'it's gonna be alright.'

_"i suffered a horrible strike to the head. just because i have forgotten my own name"_

he slowly sat up, his hand making its way to his head. bandages, wrapped around him. tobio's expression shifted by the slightest as his nose scrunched up. his eyes glazed over his hands, all neatly bandaged yet slightly bloody. he looks around, the soft creme color of the walls registered in his mind, the fresh smell of flowers coming from his bedside. there were a handful of letters sat on the table, along with a glass of water. his hand slowly reaches for the letters, taking them in his hand, he inspects each one. 

all of them were addressed to 'kageyama', leaving him to wonder who the boy was.

"kageyama...?" he muttered. his mind didn't seem to recognize the name- he was left clueless.

_"i still remembered that i loved you"_

one paper caught his attention, and as he brought it to the top of the pile, his eyes scanned its contents. inside was a poem, a lovely one at that. in which the author spoke about the life he wished to live with his lover. 

'hinata shoyo'

the name stuck around. his eyes soften and he felt his heart melt. ah. this, hinata shoyo must've been important, then, he figured. and so he held the letter tightly in his hand, holding it close to his heart. it didn't matter if he didn't know who he was. what did matter, was the love he'd continue to express in the form of poems.

the love that he hoped would reach the heart of the one he loved the most.

_"in the tenth and eleventh year, nothing of my memories returned"_

his eyes bore into the window as a soft gush of wind playfully brushes his cheeks. he squints a bit, before opening wide open to let his dark, ocean blue eyes take in the night scenery for the hundred and seventy-eighth time since he got discharged. sliding his hand against the earlier cleaned window sill, he softly sighs. the blue orbs shift back to his desk as he slowly makes his way, dragging his heavy steps towards it.

the chair, despite it seeming foreign to him, was a comfortable thing. it gave him comfort in ht latest of nights, whenever he'd have a breakdown while writing his poems. it provided a safe space for him, whenever he felt scared. whenever he didn't feel like himself, or when the growing fear of forgetting about shoyo slides into his mind.

_"of course, i still loved you. i had everything except a response from you"_

glancing at the clock, tobio sighs. like always, he'd stay up until unholy hours to get his things done. volleyball was always a core part of his life, it was something that despite being forgotten, always came back to him as if it was nature. though, not the same can be said about his endearment towards shoyo. it was something not even he could explain. it was just.. there. and he knew it'd always be there, no matter what happens.

he knew it for a fact.

why else would he continue writing poems, if it weren't for the hope of a response? slouching on his chair, tobio huffs. he'll get a response, someday.

he knows it.

_"in the twelfth and thirteenth year, my memories weren't returning"_

sat in the corner of his bedroom, tobio stilled. his eyes felt sore as his grip on the notebook he held tightened. four years, he counted. it's been four years and yet he couldn't remember a thing. he attempted to call his former senpais, if they could help him like when they helped him with his discharge, but was never met with a response.

he just wanted to know what shoyo looked like.

how much of an amazing person he really is.

why his heart still beats for him, despite the lack of memories.

he wanted answers. so, so badly.

_"i still loved you. that's all i had now"_

curling himself up into a ball, his eyes scanned the many poems he had written before. all the information he knew regarding his lover all came from the thousands of poems he's written from the last twelve to thirteen years. he smiled, whenever he read them. the subtle hints to the usual comparison to volleyball which became a staple in his poetry, tobio loved them all.

resting his head on the wall, he closes his eyes, heart racing. his mind attempted to recreate an image of what shoyo could look like. with the tangerine hair he'd often describe as fluffy, and soft-looking, with the hazel eyes that would be written as mesmerizingly gorgeous, the smile he always knew he'd love.

every single image he pictured didn't sit well, he knew they were incorrect. a stray tear makes its way down his cheek.

why can't he just remember?

_"fourteenth year, nothing came back. i was controlled by anxiety and fear"_

tobio was shaking. there was something deep inside of him, that knew this wasn't something he'd do, it wasn't like him. and yet here he was, at thirty years old, huddled underneath his covers. he hasn't touched his laptop in days, not even a volleyball. his tear ducts have been drained of tears, he hasn't eaten in days.

"...please" he whimpered, "i want to see you"

_"i just want to see you once more. i just want to speak to you"_

"just once... please" he whispered.

one time was enough for him, one opportunity to let it all out. to confess all this pent up love and affection, to pull shoyo into a big hug, to finally let the words "i love you" leave the tip of his tongue.

tobio begged, as tears streamed down his cheeks.

_"fifteenth year, all my memories returned. everything was remembered and i burst into tears"_

his whole body trembled, as he collapsed onto his knees. his eyes were glossy and he couldn't help but let out an agonizing scream. his hands grasped his head as if he was going insane- the tears wouldn't stop. his breath grew shaky as he struggled to keep it together. he sobbed, the lump in his throat refusing to go away.

the image of shoyo's smile wouldn't leave him alone. that damned adorable smile, that twinkle in the eye. 

his body moves towards a cupboard and he pulls open a drawer. inside, was a single letter. 

opening the letter, he bursts into more tears. he had finally gotten his response.

_"because i remembered... you've been dead for fifteen years."_

.

.

_"did you see my receive back there?!"_

_tobio gazed at the boy. shoyo was smiling, a bright one at that. he had just pulled off the perfect receive, and tobio was in no way ready to admit that._

_his eyes squint and he looks away, a faint blush on his cheek._

_"nope."_

_"you liar!"_

_tobio huffs, turning away._

_._

_._

_walking home from practice, shoyo playfully nudges tobio's side._

_"ne, kageyama. how did i do today? i improved right? right?"_

_"no."_

_tobio was quick to answer._

_"haah? c'mon be serious!"_

_"im being serious right now, dumbass."_

_shoyo pouts, crossing his arms. tobio sighs, looking away slightly as he tucks his hands into his pockets._

_"maybe a little.."_

_"r-really?! yata~!"  
shoyo cheered, the other smiled._

_._

_._

_"oi, what the hell are you doing with my ba-"  
his eyes widen._

_blood..?_

_shoyo looks up, his eyes filled with dread. he struggles to stand up, facing tobio with a strained smile.  
_

_extending his arm, he shows him a letter. the smaller ushers him to take it, and so he does._

_"this doesn't explain the bloo-"_

_he gets cut off by a cough. tobio looks up at shoyo and he shook._

_white astilbe flowers._

_his hands held beautiful flowers, fresh and dewy. flowers, that were stained in blood._

_"y.. you have the hanahaki..?"_

_shoyo could only nod, his smile getting harder to sustain.  
_

_"read the letter, bakayama"_

_he fights back the urge to curse at the nickname, slowly opening the letter. he only shook more and more as he went further down the letter, breath shaking with every inhale and exhale. before he could even react, he was pulled into a soft, and chaste kiss. it didn't last long, but he noted the sweet taste of shoyo's lips. as they slowly separate, his eyes linger around the other boy's face. wiping away a tear, he manages to smile. shoyo's eyes gleamed at the sight, and he pulls off a huge grin._

_"i love you!"_

_his words were choked as the flowers filled his lungs. tobio could only watch, as he held shoyo in his hands, caressing the boy's head._ _his sobs didn't calm down, his grip on shoyo only got tighter._

_"...i love you too"  
_

_._

_._

_"the poems that i've put all my love into. they keep piling up with every day"_

tobio makes his way out of the cafe and makes his way to shoyo's grave. walking by the local flower shop, he purchases the usual bouquet of white astilbes, mixed in with other flowers to contrast the bouquet. his steps were lighter, at least lighter than before. he passed shoyo's old home, which was empty at the moment, he gazes at the window to the boy's room. his eyes soften and gloss up. 

_"in your former room, they could almost fall out the window"_

rummaging through his bag, he takes out a poem he had written. folding it up into a paper airplane, he throws it across and into the open window. a gentle smile graces his face, and he takes a step back. thousands of poems, all piled up in the room that used to be his. 

_"although i cannot see you no more, my love for you remained. i thought we'd be able to meet again but then you disappeared."_

his expression shifts into a more doleful one. plucking one of the white astilbes, he places it on the front gate. he then opens the gate, and walks into the fenced backyard. there, sat a little grave for shoyo. the decoy had asked to be buried here, so he would always be near family, always be near home.

tobio walks towards the grave's side and sits down.

"you said you'll wait for me, right? next time i see you, you better not go away again, dumbass. or i'll serve a volleyball straight at your head" his voice was soft, despite the threatening words.

wiping away tears that had formed, he forces a grin on his face. "that.. that receive was amazing- if you really want to know" he still seemed a bit hesitant to say it, despite it happening many years ago.

_"the poems that i've put all my love into. i've sent them for 16 years"_

pulling out a notebook from his bag, tobio flips the pages. 

"yachi-san helped me write this one" his tone was gentle, and when his eyes were inspected, they were fond- affectionate. "tell me what you think about it alright?"

_"and there's still no reply. there's still no reply."_

**Author's Note:**

> white abstile flowers:
> 
> said to have the meaning of “i will be waiting for you' or "i'll still be waiting,” symbolizing patience and dedication to a loved one. the white symbolizes purity.
> 
> ___
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> ahh i feel like i tend to go with the whole "wait for me" with kagehina,, 
> 
> check out the song i based this fic on: https://youtu.be/3-hNDRFJbZ8


End file.
